28 Screaming Stars
by Qwertzu824
Summary: Seekers have a saying - "Home is where the trine is". My take on the 28 characters challenge, featuring our favourite Air Commander and his trinemates
1. Dancing

_A/N: Standard disclaimers apply. Reviews are coveted and treasured.  
_

* * *

 **1\. Dancing**

If there was one thing Starscream hated more than idiocy and socialising, it was socialising with idiots. Unfortunately, social gatherings organised by his creators (Starscream's attendance mandatory) fell into that exact category. At least this one was held in the garden. The mere thought of being surrounded by all these sycophants in an enclosed space made him nauseous. Holding back a suffering sigh, he asked Primus for a miracle as he pretended to listen to lord Whatshisname and whatever nonsense he was currently babbling on about. The night was young and it was still too soon for him to claim tiredness as an excuse to flee.  
Several times he had tried concentrating on his research instead but the guests would immediately notice he'd stopped nodding and making appropriate noises to indicate that he was listening (which he wasn't) and disturb him with stupid questions to recapture his attention (not that he'd been paying any). It was only when the white Seeker asked: "What do you think, lord Starscream?" that he realized he had forgotten to turn on recording and had absolutely no idea what was being discussed.  
Fortunately, he was saved from having to answer by a commotion near the dining tables.

Two of his guards dragged an unresisting black and purple Seeker before him.

"Sir, we caught him trying to steal energon."

Oh. And here he was, hoping for something at least remotely interesting... "Give him a cube or three and let him go," he ordered, dismissing them with a wave.

The guards looked surprised (so did the thief, for that matter) but knew better than to question Starscream's orders.

"How benevolent of you," a green Seeker lord to his left commented, frowning in thinly veiled disapproval. He wasn't the only one.

Starscream shrugged. "He must be hungry." Why else would somebot steal fuel? _Half-wits_. All of them. "It's not like we don't have enough," he indicated the tables overflowing with food.

"Actually, my lord," the thief spoke up, "I'm not hungry. I let myself get caught because I was hoping to speak with you." He even had the cheek to smile.

 _Really now?_ "You know, if it were captain Skylight who caught you, he would have dragged your thieving wings straight to the brig without bothering me."

"I would have escaped him," the thief declared with utter confidence.

"Oh? You think you're that fast?"

"Nope," the dark Seeker grinned and _disappeared_. "I'm actually _faster_ ," a voice whispered into his audio receptor. Starscream was on his peds with a blaster pointed into the mech's faceplate before he even finished that sentence.

The intruder's red optics brightened in amazement. "What-? How did you-? No way..."

The guards were still staring on the place their uninvited guest had been standing clicks ago. Finally one of them looked Starscream's way and cried out, aiming his rifle at the disappearing thief. Almost immediately the mech had every single weapon levelled at him.

He didn't seem to notice. "Seriously, _how did you do that_?"

"Perks of being the fastest Seeker ever created," Starscream answered with a smug smile, dismissing the guards that moved to grab the teleporter. They looked like they wanted to protest but eventually they settled for hovering nearby, ready to interfere if things got out of servo. Starscream ignored them. "You have a warp field generator, don't you?" he wondered.

Black wings with purple highlights rose in surprise. "How the frag did you know?"

"Scientist. Alright, you have my attention. What do you want?"

"I'd like to dance with you," the intruder declared.

Starscream didn't quite know what he'd been expecting - but definitely not _this_. "You... want to dance with me," he repeated slowly. The thief nodded eagerly. "Why?"

"Partly because my friends dared me to," the dark Seeker answered honestly, "but mostly because... Well, I've seen you fly. I mean, everybot's seen you fly, I know, but that's not my point. You're, like, the most _graceful_ Seeker ever created and I'd love to see you dance?" He smiled, both nervous and hopeful.

The young lord considered him, strangely flattered by the compliment. It was a well known fact among the nobility that Starscream didn't dance. Privately he admitted to himself that sometimes he would like to - but certainly not with aft-kissers trying to use him to slither their way into his creators' good graces. The stranger claimed that he wanted to dance for the sake of dancing – and for some unfathomable reason a part of Starscream actually believed him.  
Well, he _had_ been praying for a distraction, and if this was his answer...

"Alright," he agreed, finally lowering his weapon. The mech's face lit up with delight, a nice contrast to the gaping faces of insulted guests. _Serves them right._

"Sir," one of the guards stepped forward, clearly about to protest that it was not safe.

"Aileron, if he wanted to kidnap or murder me, he could have done it without devising this half-afted plan to get caught. Stand down."

::But Sir, he can teleport!:: Aileron argued over the comms., willing to risk Starscream's displeasure for the sake of his safety.

::He can't compete with my reaction time. I know how to disable a warp field generator and I can take care of myself. Now stand down. I'm not going to repeat myself.::

Airelon did, although not without obvious reluctance, and let Starscream lead his partner to the dance floor.

"Oh, I'm Skywarp, by the way," the thief introduced himself.

Starscream inclined his head, not bothering with his own designation. There was hardly a Seeker in Vos who didn't know him. It took a pointed, expectant glare for the dumbfounded musicians to start playing. They chose a popular tune, one even a commoner like Skywarp would be familiar with. The music started slow. After a formal bow Starscream danced a slow circle around Skywarp. He stopped abruptly as the beat changed and let the thief dance a circle around him. To Starscream's surprise, the intruder was actually pretty good at this. Gradually relaxing, he eventually started to enjoy himself. It's been a long time since he last danced, let alone with a capable partner. As the song got faster and faster, so did they. At one point they rose in the air, their dance gaining a completely new dimension. The world faded away, there was only music echoing in their sparks. Skywarp grinned, and Starscream found himself grinning back. They chased each other, mirrored each other's moves, moved exactly the opposite way, showed off, fooled around, tried to impress... Never in his life had Starscream felt so _in sync_ with somebot. This had to be what having trinemates felt like. _Perfection_.

All too soon it was over. They drifted close, joined their right servos and one last time moved together in a circle. They bowed to each other, smiling. Something nagged at Starscream's processor, and it took him embarrassing 1.7 clicks to figure out what. The sky was several shades lighter than it had any right to be at this time of night. Or _any_ time of night. He checked his chronometer and felt his wings rise in shock. Unable to believe it, he looked down at the garden. It was deserted, the guests and musicians long gone, tables empty, only Airelon was dutifully waiting for him, along with the morning shift of his guards. It was almost dawn. They had literally danced the night away - but how? It felt like breems! He looked at Skywarp and saw his own astonishment reflected in his dance partner's face.

Skywarp smiled, a bit sadly, and bowed once more. "Thank you for the dance, my lord. I will treasure this memory for the rest of my life."

"Your trinemates are going to be jealous," Starscream remarked, his attempt at light humour failing miserably.

The teleporter looked away, embarrassed. "I don't have trinemates," he confessed in a whisper.

Starscream's servos moved without asking his processor for input. They caught Skywarp's wings in a grip known as _the trineleader's hold_.

After a moment of silence purple servos clutched at his own, not pulling, just holding them in place. "You mean that?" Skywarp asked in a small voice.

"I do," Starscream assured him without a trace of doubt.

Skywarp bowed his head in acceptance. _Yes,_ Starscream thought, _this is what perfection feels like._


	2. Drinking energon

_A/N: I have a feeling that "drinking energon" was meant as "getting drunk" but I have a thing for vampires and this is what came out when I started to write...  
_

* * *

 **2\. Driking energon  
**

"Captain Astrotrain, may I have a moment of your time, please?" Perceptor was eternally grateful he'd found the Triple Changer seated at a table in the recreation room. Astrotrain was taller than even Sentinel Prime, while Perceptor was smaller than average Minibot. Needless to say, even seated the mech towered over him.

"Yes?"

"I am Perceptor, head of the scientific department trying to find the cure." Thankfully, that got his attention. "Are you familiar with a Seeker called Starscream?"

"Should I be?"

"Well, he is known as the fastest Seeker ever created," _the most stubborn Seeker ever created,_ in Perceptor's humble opinion, "and the only Seeker scientist in the known history."

"Ah, might've heard of him."

Perceptor tried not to show his annoyance with the mech's gruff voice and frustratingly short answers. "He will accompany your unit in the next battle in order to collect samples from a living specimen. I have a favour to ask of you. It is true that we need those samples, however, we need Starscream even more. His brilliant processor and unique way of thinking are invaluable. Therefore, I ask you to keep a sensor on him and if it seems he's about to do anything reckless," he unsubspaced the injector gun loaded with sedatives, "please stop him."

"I'll do my best," Astrotrain grunted.

* * *

Below him, mechs were getting wounded or killed. Despite having a warrior core programming, Starscream was _not_ a warrior and the sight of battle made him uneasy. He didn't allow himself to think of them as mechs. No, they were scientifically fascinating subjects. Especially the infected individuals. Except for bright red optics, there was no way of telling them apart from healthy population. They looked the same, moved the same, and apparently retained at least a semblance of their memories and personalities. So far, all evidence indicated that the virus (if that's what it was) made them unable to process regular fuel, causing them to attack healthy mechs out of hunger. Some victims survived and became infected, others perished. Starscream yearned to figure out the pattern. It seemed that fliers in general were more prone to survive while the majority of grounders died – yet their leader, Megatron, was a grounder himself. Starscream was going to solve the _hows_ and _whys_ of it, and, of course, find the cure.

A scream caught his attention, interrupting his musings. A young Aerialbot was spiralling uncontrollably towards the ground, his thrusters smoking.

"Go," he told his trinemates hovering protectively by his side. Over their trinebond he promised to stay where he was and out of trouble, at least until they returned. They nodded, trusting him. Skywarp teleported to catch the youngling and Thundercracker flew to intercept the attacker. He left them to it and continued his observation of the battlefield.

An infected Minibot tackled a Praxian soldier, pushed him on the ground and sank his teeth into his neck. _Fascinating_. As far as Starscream knew, nobot had reported a changed dental structure. There were two prolonged teeth in the top row, obviously intended to facilitate the process of energon extraction. They were probably hollow, and maybe filled with some kind of anaesthetic to tranquilize the prey... A part of him mourned for the Praxian. He wanted to go and _do something_ , save him from his fate. But he knew he couldn't. It was probably too late anyway. All he could do was stand by and make notes. _It's for the greater good_ , he reminded himself firmly. The soldier had lost consciousness, probably due to shock and energon loss. Now the question was whether he would deactivate or survive and change. Both possibilities represented a source of valuable data. Starscream aimed his long-range scanners at the mech and mechanically recorded changes in temperature, spark rate and processor activity. As he'd predicted, the spark rate slowed with the energon loss. What he hadn't predicted what the sudden spike in-

 _Skywarp!_

A sharp tug on his trinebond made him whip around and find the teleporter. Some glitch had sneaked up on Skywarp and latched onto his servo. Starscream's trine leader protocols went haywire, demanding he must protect his Wing at all costs but before he could jump in and tear the attacker apart – with his bare servos, if necessary – TC sent a warning burst through their bond.

~ _I'll help him, stay where you are!~_

It took all of Starscream's considerable willpower to obey the order. Rationally he understood that TC was a better fighter and closer to Warp anyway but his spark was screaming in anguish. When Warp finally shook off his opponent and kicked him to the next decaorn, Starscream's chest filled with pride. However, before he could sag in relief, suddenly there was Megatron grabbing Skywarp by his neck and a blue cassette carrier blocking TC's way... He moved before his processor even registered it.

He didn't get very far. Strong servos wrapped around him, immobilizing him. He screamed and struggled, fought harder than ever in his life and almost succeeded in freeing himself but there was a sharp prick in his neck and everything went black.

* * *

Thundercracker saw Megatron emerge from the ruined building but he didn't even get a chance to cry out in warning. For a mech that size, the grounder was shockingly quick. He grabbed Warp and threw him against the wall. Thundercracker's attempt to get to them was thwarted by a large blue cassette carrier. The Seeker attacked without hesitation, needing to reach his trinemate quickly, but the carrier was expecting it. His flying kick was deftly caught and he was pushed on the ground. While the carrier was bigger and heavier than him, Thundercracker had speed and warrior core programming on his side. They grappled for a while and in the end he managed to push the mech away and get on his peds - but suddenly there was a burst of panic from Starscream, followed by equally sudden silence. A quick glance confirmed that his trine leader was unconscious but thankfully unharmed in Astrotrain's servos.  
The distraction, however short, had cost him his advantage. An unexpected cannonade of punches to his midsection caused him to double over and made him open for a vicious strike to the back of him helm. His vision filled with static and he hit the ground with a grunt of pain. He was too dazed to fight as he was grabbed and roughly pushed onto his back. The attacker straddled him and immobilized his servos. When the static finally cleared, Thundercracker noticed the mech's visor was gone. Mesmerizing red optics filled his vision, filled his world and erased everything else.

' _Cease struggling, you will not be harmed_ ,' a voice whispered reassuringly in his mind. It was tempting, oh so tempting, to give in and stop resisting... No, the only voices that had any right to be in his processor were the voices of his trinemates! Skywarp! He needed to get to Warp! He redoubled his efforts, fighting also to push the intruder away from his mind.

' _No harm will come to your trinemate if you both yield,_ ' the voice promised, now much less seductive but nonetheless very convincing. ' _You will both become Decepticons_.' Despite never hearing that word before, Thundercracker somehow understood what it meant – to be stronger and faster and better than he was now... ' _Do not fear, this will not hurt._ ' He barely had time to wonder _what_ would not hurt before sharp teeth sunk into his neck. He tried to push his attacker away but moving felt like swimming in a pool of tar.  
Instinctively Thundercracker reached for Warp, felt his trinemate's pain and dizziness as his helm collided with the wall and his surprise as Megatron's canines pierced his neck cables. Darkness greedily claimed them both.

* * *

Starscream onlined knowing something was very wrong. He quickly realized it was his trinebond – it felt odd, completely out of sync, the once perfect harmony disrupted. Immediately he reached for his trinemates; they felt him and reached back, sending him a mental equivalent of a firm embrace. _Alive. Undamaged. Calm down.  
_

 _~What happened?_ ~ he demanded.

They shared their memories, and Starscream felt his insides plunge into ice. No, he wouldn't let himself panic. He couldn't lose it now. He was going to find the damned cure and he was going to do fix this mess.

"Starscream?" a voice startled him. He hadn't noticed Ratchet entering the medbay. "How do you feel?"

"I'm operating on optimal parameters," he reported dully.

The medic sighed. "Yes, I know how to read my scanners, thank you. That's not what I meant and you know it."

"My trinebond is strained, how do you _think_ I feel?" he snapped, immediately feeling bad about it. It was not Ratchet's fault.

"Starscream," the medic said patiently, "my understanding of trinebonds is purely academic. I have no idea what a strained trinebond feels like. Is there anything I can do for you? Should I expect you to start losing your sanity anytime soon?"

It was the Seeker's turn to sigh. "Sorry I lashed out. No, there is nothing you can do, and no, I'm not about to go insane in the near future."

"And in the long run?"

Starscream shook his helm. "There will be no long run. Now if you excuse me, I need to be alone."

Thankfully, Ratchet didn't try to stop him as he hopped off the berth and left the medbay. He headed to the quarters he shared with his trinemates and locked the door at the distinctive sound of warp generator deactivating. When he turned around they were there, looking exactly the same except for their serious expressions and bright red optics. He opened his servos and pulled them close. It felt good to be reunited, to know they were unharmed. Their energy fields automatically reached for his but the three of them were no longer compatible. He had to _fix this_.

Pulling back he looked them over once again, needing a confirmation that they alright. They stood still and let him examine them to his satisfaction. Starscream didn't care that they were infected; they were alive and that's all that mattered.

"Well," Skywarp broke the silence with a hint of smile, "at least we can solve the problem with samples from living specimens now."

Starscream froze. " _No_. Absolutely not! Protomatter extraction is a very painful process – I'm not doing it to you!"

"Star," as always, TC's voice calmed him, "it's for the entire population of Cybertron. You can't put the two of us above the whole world."

He swallowed his instinctive reply ' _I can and I will!_ ' and realized that TC was right. Besides, the sooner he had those samples, the sooner he would have the cure.

"Alright," he conceded reluctantly, "but I'm putting you to stasis for that and I will hear no argument in this matter."

* * *

Skyfire observed his best friend carefully. One would expect Starscream to be depressed and sour after what happened to his trinemates but instead he seemed calm and centred, and occasionally in a good mood. The Seeker spent _orns_ in the lab, throwing himself to work with all his spark. Nobot dared to criticise him for that. If work helped him cope with his loss, it was certainly better than other, more destructive alternatives. Today he was glued to the monitor, his wings vibrating with tense anticipation. Skyfire longed to ask his friend what exactly was he working on but he had a feeling any interruption would be unwelcome. Everybot tiptoed around the Seeker. Skyfire watched those silver and red wings flutter in a rare open display of nervousness and then freeze. For a moment Starscream's entire frame turned into a statue and Skyfire knew that whatever happened, it couldn't be good. The datapad Starscream was holding cracked under pressure.

" _No,_ " the Seeker whispered almost too quietly to be heard. "No! No, this can't be right!" the desperation in his voice was impossible to miss.

"Star..."

"Not now, Skyfire, I must run this cycle again!" he yelled, frantically typing new commands. He began pacing the lab as the analysis restarted, refusing to answer any questions. Other scientists gave him a wide berth. He paced for almost a joor and when the monitor pinged he moved faster than Skyfire had ever seen him move on the ground. Once again he held utterly still while he read the results. A moment later his knees gave up and he sank to the floor.

With a few quick strides Skyfire was by his side. "Star? What's wrong?"

The Seeker just shook his helm, completely despondent. The shuttle looked on the screen, trying to make sense of the data. It took him considerably longer than Starscream but in the end he understood his friend's desperation.

"Oh Star, I'm so sorry..." He knew words could not comfort the Seeker, _nothing_ could comfort him at that moment. Starscream pushed him away and fled the lab.

"What happened?" Wheeljack asked, voicing the question that was on everybot's mind.

"According to this, the virus causes irreversible changes in CNA patterns." Skyfire looked at his colleagues and said it aloud: "There is no cure."

* * *

"I don't know what to do," Skyfire confessed to Smokescreen. "He won't open the door, he won't even talk to me... He's not talking to anybot. And he hasn't been flying in almost a groon! That's not healthy..."

Their resident psychologist nodded in understanding. "I think you should leave him be for a while. Give him time to come to terms with what happened. Maybe he needs to be alone right now. Starscream is strong, stubborn and independent – he will try to cope with it all by himself at first and refuse all help. Only when everything fails will he be amenable to listen. And you know what? You could use a break too. Go flying, have some fun, clear your mind, distance yourself from all this for a few joors. It will help you both."

In the end Skyfire decided to listen to Smokescreen's advice and went for a fly. He returned tired but considerably calmer than before. He made a mental note to thank the Praxian later. All he needed now was a cube of warm energon and a good datapad to read.

The moment he entered the rec room he was ambushed by a very agitated Perceptor.

"Ah, Skyfire! Thank goodness you're back!"

"What happened?" he was almost afraid to ask.

"It's Starscream. He had a major disagreement with the Prime and he's most upset."

One of the twin warriors, Sideswipe if he remembered correctly, snorted in disbelief, shaking his helm. "Let me translate that for you: Starscream yelled at Sentinel from the top of his _very impressive_ vocalizer – they probably heard him all the way to Kaon – and he's furious like a rabid turbofox."

"What happened? What did Star say?"

"No idea," the red warrior shrugged, "it was in Seekercant gibberish."

"I can give you a hint," a green Seeker who was passing by offered, waving his half drank cube around. "I think _glitch ridden ground-fraggin' drone reject with a discount processor_ was probably the most polite thing I heard him say."

Even Skyfire, quite used to Starscream's more expressive vocabulary, winced at that. _Drone reject?_ What in the world had Sentinel done to deserve that - especially if such insult could be considered _polite_ compared to the rest?

"Any idea what caused this?" Skyfire hadn't realized they were the centre of attention until the entire rec room shrugged in reply, shaking helms.

"Nope," the green Seeker answered, "he just stood there in the middle of the corridor and yelled until Sentinel fled, and then some. Let me tell you, _Ironhide_ could take notes from that mech."

"I'll go talk to him," Skyfire promised, forgoing his ration.

* * *

He found Star in their private lab. The normally cluttered tables were almost empty, Starscream's inventions neatly stored on the racks and all the "creative mess" the Seeker couldn't do without was gone. The jet in question looked up from a datapad.

"Ah, Skyfire. I was about to comm. you. Here are some notes on the projects I'm leaving behind, in case you want to finish them."

"Where are you going?" the shuttle demanded, stunned.

"To my trinemates, where I belong."

"You'd... become one of them?" he half-stated, half-asked.

" _Decepticon._ That's what they call themselves. And yes, I would join Unicron himself if it meant I get to be with my trine again."

"But you will have to kill mechs for food!" Skyfire objected.

"I'll try to create an energon filtration machine so we aren't forced to do that," Starscream answered, unfazed.

"Why not do it here, in a fully equipped lab? Why willingly expose yourself to danger?"

The Seeker refused to meet his gaze. "I originally wanted to but I changed my mind after talking with the Prime."

Skyfire raised an optic ridge. "Are you, by any chance, referring to the shouting match the entire base is talking about?"

"I'll have you know it was actually a civil discussion until he suggested that I should _forget about TC and Warp_ and _find myself another pair to fly with!_ "

 _Ouch_. Now that was a _very_ stupid thing to say around Seekers. Suddenly Starscream's reaction didn't seem so extreme anymore.

"Star," he began, not knowing how he would finish that.

The Seeker shook his helm. "Don't bother, Sky. Nothing you can say or do will make me change my mind. I've known it would end like this from the moment I found out about the cure." Unexpectedly, Starscream hugged him. "Thank you. For everything."

Before Skyfire could react he was gone.

* * *

"Sir, are you Starscream?" one of the guards asked.

"Yes, why?"

"We're terribly sorry, sir, but you are forbidden to leave the base."

" _What?_ "

"Sir, we can't let you pass, we have our orders."

"Who issued them?"

"Sentinel Prime."

"Why do I even bother asking," Starscream muttered to himself. "Can you give him a message from me? Tell him I said ' _Go frag yourself with a rusted shock rod, you sleazy half-rotten organic slug!_ ' Thank you." With that he pinged Warp and less than two clicks later his trinemate appeared at his side, grabbed his servo and teleported them away.

* * *

They reappeared in a spacious room obviously meant for fliers – it contained large wall-to-wall windows, a landing platform, and furniture adjusted to accommodate wings. Starscream didn't spare the chamber more than cursory glance. It was not important. What was important was TC's bright smile as he caught Starscream's wings. The younger Seeker returned the gesture and pressed their foreheads together. Then, of course, he repeated the greeting with Skywarp. The trinebond drummed with their shared happiness at being finally reunited. As always, his trinemates looked at him for guidance.

He nodded. "Let's get this over with."

They didn't argue – Starscream didn't expect them to – as they pulled him into a double embrace. He welcomed the sensation of two sets of teeth piercing his neck cables, didn't fight the sudden onslaught of dizziness and yielded to the darkness easily - because when he woke up, their broken harmony would be restored.

* * *

 _And I'll always protect that what is mine_  
– _nothing is more important than my trine._

 _Ancient scrolls, Temple of Primus in Vos_


	3. Caring

_A/N: This takes place during the Quintesson War_

* * *

 **3\. Caring  
**

"Fraggit!" the medic cursed. "I need a servo! Patch?"

"Busy!"

"Fixit?"

"Can't, sorry!"

"Lifeline?"

"Gimme three breems!"

"I don't _have_ three breems, slaggitall! _Anybot?_ "

Unexpectedly, Ratchet's desperate call was answered by a Seeker. "I'm an engineer, basic medical training, what can I do?"

" _Thank Primus,_ " Ratchet muttered, carefully putting a tool under his patient's air vent. "Here, hold this open for me – yes, like that. Hold still."

"I need a clamp!" Wheeljack yelled from somewhere.

"We don't have any left!" Patch yelled back, not hiding her frustration.

"I have a pair in my subspace," the Seeker announced. Ratchet stopped what he was doing and took hold of the retractor to free the engineer's servos. " _How come_ you don't have any left? The supply crates were delivered just last groon!" the tricoloured flier demanded as he handed the clamps to the nursebot.

"They're probably in the flier medbay," Ratchet groused.

"Excuse me, _what?_ " Seeker wings twitched in surprise.

"Ah, you must be new here. This army consists primarily of fliers, as you must have noticed, and the high command are all Seekers," the medic shrugged, more focused on closing the energon leak than on his words. "We have two medbays, and this one is for grounders, which means that we are permanently understaffed and struggling with supplies."

The engineer fell silent after that, skilfully following Ratchet's orders - not that the red and white medic minded. He left when the surgery was over and they honestly thought they would never see him again.

Half a joor later the door to the medbay opened and Ratchet groaned in misery. _Not more patients! Primus, please, no more today!_ But thankfully it was a healthy looking Constructicon who entered, carrying a large crate marked as MEDICAL SUPPLIES.

"Where d'ya want this?"

Another mech with a crate followed, than another and several more after that. The medics and helpers who weren't up to their wrists in patients' internal mechanisms stared in disbelief as fifteen crates were delivered to their storage room. The last ones to enter were three mechs with medical decals, one of them pushing- _sweet voltage_ , was that a full life-support system? He let go as Wheeljack lunged for it.

"Excuse me, who is the head medic here?" the blue newcomer asked.

"That would be me," Patch barely spared them a glance before returning to saving her patient.

"I'm Repair, this is Switchboard and Restart. We have been reassigned to this medbay."

* * *

The addition of three fully trained medics and valuable supplies made a huge difference, and not only in the staff morale. Ratchet could finally recharge for more than just a few joors without feeling guilty about it. They actually had a reasonable shift system now.  
When the Seeker with the showy paintjob casually dropped by a decaorn later to check if they needed anything else, he was greeted as their saviour. He dismissed their sparkfelt thanks, saying simply that he could not stand discrimination, and changed the topic.  
He regularly showed up after major battles to help with the triage and lend a servo where he could, always staying until the crisis was over. He once picked up an unsalvageable doorwing on his way out and returned it fixed two orns later. Needless to say, their already considerable respect for him skyrocketed at that. Patch and Wheeljack tried several times to convince him to join the engineering team but they never succeeded. Really, it would be a pity if somebot that skilled and talented got himself killed in a battle. It was obvious the mech was a soldier; probably an officer, though he had no markings apart from his trine mark. Not only because he was a Seeker and all Seekers were warriors by core programming; it was clear from the way he moved, even from the way he stood. He had a voice used to issuing commands and a bearing of somebot who expected them fulfilled immediately without questioning. It was only evident during the triage, though – otherwise he took care never to order the medics around and always respected their judgement.

* * *

The battle was labelled an important victory. Ratchet only hoped the mechs bleeding on the floor of the medbay knew it. He _hated_ this fragging war. He understood the necessity of it – this was a fight for the survival of their entire race – but that didn't mean he wasn't averse to killing. Yes, even if it meant killing the thrice damned slag-eating rust-filled Quintessons who wanted to subdue Cybertron. Medical core programming was funny that way. But as long as nobot requested him to fight, or fix a wounded Quintesson, he would be alright. Somehow.  
A heavy sigh made him look left, just in time to see a patient turning grey. The Seeker (huh, when did he even get here?) bowed his helm and whispered a prayer to Primus in soft Seekercant. Ratchet offlined his optics for a click. Yep, he hated this war from the bottom of his spark. There was no time for mourning, though, not when there were other lives to save. The deactivated patient was wheeled away and another mech took his place. The engineer-turned-surgeon wordlessly hooked him to the energon drip and started fixing the hastily patched up wounds on his torso. Ratchet returned to his own patient with a sigh and immersed himself in his work.

He had no idea how much time had passed before his concentration was broken by shouting from the triage area.

"I'm telling you the fliers' medbay is full!" a green Seeker yelled in outrage. A quick glance told Ratchet one of his two companions had a pierced wing. He winced in sympathy. It was a very painful injury, but not life-threatening.

"As you can see, so are we," Fixit countered patiently, motioning to crowded hall. "Your trinemate is in no danger of deactivation, so sit down and wait your turn!"

"No! You are obliged to treat Seekers as a priority! I'll have you court-martialled!" the flier all but shrieked. (The thing about Seekers, Ratchet observed, is that they have beautiful voices – until they start shouting.)

"By whose order?" Patch demanded to know.

"The Air Commander himself!"

"And what is the number of that order? Why can't I see it in my Inbox?" the head medic growled.

For a moment the mech froze but he recovered quickly. "It was a verbal order."

Well, frag. In Ratchet's humble opinion, the flier was lying. Then again, it was plausible. The Air Commander was a Seeker himself...

Patch was about to speak up but blue claws squeezed her shoulder. "I've got this," 'their' Seeker muttered.  
"Let me get this straight," he glared at the newcomer. "You have recently spoken with Air Commander Starscream and he told you to tell the medics that Seekers must be treated first, regardless of how many mechs are more seriously wounded? Think before you answer."

The green Seeker shot him a questioning look, not quite sure if he came to the rescue. "Yes."

'Their' flier heaved a sigh. "Captain...?"

"Hailstorm."

"Captain Hailstorm, I will freely admit that I am overworked, overstressed, suffering from lack of recharge and mild stimulant overdose, but I assure you that my memory works just fine. And I most certainly don't remember ever giving such an order."

Except for the soft beeping of the machinery, the sudden silence in the medbay was absolute. Judging from the look of horror that slowly appeared on Hailstorm's face, it dawned on him that he was fragged.

"Sir?"

"Stand at attention when talking to your superior! Not _you_ , idiot!" Starscream snapped at the wounded trinemate. "Explain yourself."

Hailstorm bowed his helm and wings in submission. "Sir, my trinemate is in agony. He's been waiting for almost two joors and nobot will help him! Please, as a trine-leader, surely you understand my desperation?"

The Air Commander said nothing but moved behind the wounded mech and dug his long slender claws beneath the armour plates under his neck. Ratchet didn't see what Starscream did but a moment later the wounded Seeker slumped in relief and would have fallen forward if not for his other trinemate catching him.

"Thank you, sir," Hailstorm said, with a fist over his spark and wings raised in a formal expression of respect.

"My trinemate was shot in the middle of the battle," Starscream told him, ignoring the sparkfelt thanks. "He's been in the flier medbay for the last six joors, waiting for a repair without complaining. He won't even let _me_ treat him because these mechs need me more and he would never forgive himself if somebot deactivated just because I was too busy fixing him. It's driving me up the wall. But do you see me implying that these grounders can go frag themselves because Thundercracker is wounded? _Do you?_ " he demanded, threatening and commanding – and how the slag had nobot figured out his identity long ago was suddenly beyond Ratchet's understanding.

"No, sir."

"Then go make yourself useful, take a mop and clean this mess!" he pointed at the energon, coolant and lubricant spilled all over the floor. "And don't get in the medics' way!"

"Yes, sir!"

Turning on his heel Starscream headed back to his patient to finish welding his ped closed, ignoring the stares and whispers that followed him. Ratchet's medical protocols kicked in, reminding him that Air Commander or not, the Seeker had confessed to being 'overworked, overstressed, suffering from lack of recharge and mild stimulant overdose' and he had most likely been sharing the pain of his wounded trinemate for several joors on top of that. Seeing that no patient required his immediate attention, Ratchet headed to the energon dispenser. Wheeljack, obviously reading his mind, appeared by his side with sedatives in his servo.

Starscream looked up when a cube was thrust before his optics. "Thanks," he said tiredly, downing it in one go.

"You should get some rest," Ratchet suggested. "Doctor's orders."

The corners of the Seeker's mouth lifted in a wry smile. "I'm fine."

" _Overworked, overstressed, suffering from lack of recharge and mild stimulant overdose_ ," Ratchet quoted with a raised optical ridge.

"I might have exaggerated a bit," the officer protested, his words slurred.

"I think we both know that you didn't," the medic said and caught Starscream before he could hit the floor.

Moments later the concentration of static electricity in the air skyrocketed, there was a _crack_ and suddenly a black and purple Seeker appeared out of nowhere. Ratchet froze, taking in Starscream's trine mark on the mech's wings. _Warrior core programming. Overprotective trinemate protocols. Sharp claws strong enough to tear your helm off (and yes, that'd actually happened). Oh frag._

Thankfully the Seeker didn't attack. _Yet_. Red optics took in Ratchet's medical decals, the fallen empty cube of energon and the unconscious Starscream.

"You drugged him."

"I had to," Ratchet replied, ready to defend his actions.

"Thanks. Been thinking about doin' it myself." _Wait, what?_ "He's been running on fumes."

Ratchet didn't know what to say to that, too busy being relieved that he apparently wouldn't be maimed.

"I'll take him," the dark Seeker said. Despite the polite tone, it was not a suggestion. The medic relinquished his hold as the teleporter stepped close to take his trinemate. With his servos wrapped protectively around his trine-leader, the Seeker nodded his thanks and disappeared in a flash of purple light.

Ratchet reset his optics as he felt Wheeljack pat his back soothingly. :: _Got any highgrade from Sideswipe's stash left?_ :: he asked over the comms.

:: _Yep. You look like you need it,_ :: the engineer comm'd back cheerfully.

Well, thank Primus for small favours.


End file.
